


The King Waits

by AuroraWakes



Category: The Folk of the Air - Holly Black
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Have a conversation!, Misunderstandings, Prequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:55:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26142940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraWakes/pseuds/AuroraWakes
Summary: Months after he emerged from the serpent skin and Jude confessed her love, their marriage is a somehow a tangle of misunderstanding and hurt.  Cardan watches as things seem to fall apart around him.Prequel to The Queen is Wild and Sated.Set post-Queen of Nothing with a few touches of a/u.  Picks up right after Jude confesses her love in QoN.
Relationships: Jude Duarte/Cardan Greenbriar
Comments: 16
Kudos: 110





	The King Waits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badgalvivi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badgalvivi/gifts), [betheraintomysun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/betheraintomysun/gifts).



> I am the true queen of nothing...meaning, I don't own these characters or the lovely universe they inhabit. That pleasure belongs to Milady Black.

Cardan was lost in her kiss. It was soft, and passionate, unbearably human and most of all, real. His heart soared. Jude loved him. _Loved him_. He was elated with the thought of it. She had wiped the drop of blood from his ear in such a loving caress. When she had confessed her love so hesitantly, then convincing him, it had exhilarated him. The sliding kisses were blurred and hazy. If he could capture this moment forever and simply live it in an endless loop, he would. But he heard the revel just outside reaching epic proportions.

He stopped them reluctantly. ‘Jude, the court. We must assure the masses that their king is of his right mind and body. It is a precarious time.’

She drew away and nodded slowly, smiling at him. No one knew better than she that he was right about the state of the realm. They left the room for the revel together, hand in hand.

*

Later that night, the exhilaration from her confession began to fail in keeping his exhaustion at bay. He looked at the serpent meat across the room and his stomach turned. It was as if he could feel his blood transforming from cold to hot by the moment and it threw everything off. He took a deep breath. And suddenly, there she was, at his side. He turned to her and immediately brightened, somewhat rejuvenated, and held out his hand. ‘Wife, shall we?’

She smiled at him and put her hand in _his_. That smile, that was for so few, was his. They twirled around the dance floor, the fae watching them closely before joining in. He held her closer than was necessary, she held on longer than the steps required. The rest of the room faded away.

And then he missed a step.

She looked at him closely. ‘Cardan…are you..?’ she tentatively asked while they continued to dance. He was usually so graceful.

He looked around, making sure he was not overheard. ‘I am drained,’ he confessed. ‘My limbs are not yet my own. It feels like it was so much longer than three days. I cannot shake the hunger, the emptiness. But I feel I must for a little while longer…’ He gestured towards his subjects, all the while feeling clammy, feverish.

She glanced around while continuing the steps, taking slightly more of a lead in the dance, only noticeable to him. She turned back to him, leaning close. Her lips brushed his ear and his arms turned to gooseflesh. ‘Kiss me, long and deep.’ His blood started to rush immediately. ‘Then announce you must reclaim your wife. No one will doubt you. We will both be able to leave and the revel will continue without concern.’

Again, his wife demonstrated her brilliance. He smiled at her, and then bent low, claiming her mouth. It had been hours, but it felt like years they had been apart. She opened to him, blossomed. She leaned into him, the steps of the dance failing. His hand came to her neck, hers to his chest. When he pulled away, his breath was fast and hard. Her eyes were blown wide and she looked lost. He heard chuckling around them. ‘The queen and I retreat to more enjoyable pursuits.’ Cardan called, waving off the guards.

The knowing twittering continued as they left. He took her hand and led her from the room to his quarters.

His strength was failing fast. He started to tremble with the speed of the seeping. ‘Come on,’ she put her arm around his waist. ‘I’ve got you.’ He leaned on her heavily.

They reached his door and she opened it. He stumbled into bed. ‘Jude, I don’t know what…’

‘Hush, don’t think of it. You’ve been through… a lot.’ She was swiftly removing his shoes, loosening his clothes clinically. She gently pushed him back and pulled the heavily embroidered coverlets up.

‘No one must know,’ he whispered. She kissed his forehead and nodded. ‘I don’t want to see anyone.’ Her fussing hands hesitated. Jude’s face froze a bit. She swallowed. She nodded again. He couldn’t keep his eyes open, sleep was taking him under its waves too fast. Darkness came as he acknowledged the kingdom was in capable hands.

*

As he woke, he heard a voice across the room. It felt years later.

‘The king is asleep. He is quite tired from last night’s… _activities_ …’ her voice was appropriately languid, satisfied. He could hear the smile in her voice. ‘I can take that.’ It left no room for discussion, and he heard the rustle of a scroll changing hands. Then the door shut firmly. He watched from the bed as she came from the door, her face now much more serious than a moment ago, and sat at the desk.

‘Jude,’ his attempt at calling her came out more as a croak. He struggled to sit up in bed.

She turned to him, quickly getting up from the desk. She picked up a jug and crystal goblet, poured the water and brought it to him.

‘Thank you.’ he whispered as she handed it to him.

‘How are you?’

‘A little better, but still more fatigued than I would like. Every muscle feels strained, stretched. My blood rushes oddly. I am starving but my stomach turns…’ he drifted off. He again felt feverish.

Jude looked worried.

‘I will be fine. I just need a little time. Can you…’

‘Don’t worry. I can keep this going however long. I do have the advantage of practice.’ She smiled at him.

He had never been so glad of the time when his wife had run the empire through him yet without him, or of her ability to lie. He settled back in, already feeling the waves of exhaustion taking him again.

And yet, something itched at the back of his mind. The look on her face after he had kissed her in front of the faerie, the satisfied sound of her voice just now, all playacting. Yes, it was on his behalf. But they also were so close to the way she had looked when they were alone, when it should be real. He wished, not for the first time, to be able to better sift the lies from the truth when it came to his bride.

*

The week wore on. He would sleep like the dead. The queen took care of the realm’s business. When she answered the door, she did a very good job of playing up how much she and the king were enjoying one another’s company. She changed the sheets he sweat through, again and again. At first, she slept in the bed with him, but he tossed and turned too much; she couldn’t handle the realm’s business and watching over him with that little sleep. So she slept on an ornate sofa, close to him, waking him when the nightmares seemed to go on too long. The servants would take the sweat soaked sheets, whispering of the passion between the king and the queen, and leave the food, drink, fresh sheets, and whatever else she asked for outside of the room. The court knew of Cardan’s previous exploits. It seemed Jude, a human, could keep up with him. Unheard of in a mortal. It boded well for the kingdom.

*

The morning of her coronation, he woke more easily than any other day that week. Jude was bustling about, and after a moment, caught him looking at her. ‘Cardan,’ she started. ‘The coronation is today. I don’t know if you are well enough, but I think it best if you attend.’ She sounded worried, fretful. ‘We can think of something if you cannot, but...I don’t know...’ He realized her bustling was a lot more like pacing than he had previously thought. He was worrying her. On a day that should be hers to relish.

‘I am fine. Of course.’ He pushed the covers back, getting to his feet a little unsteadily.

‘Cardan…’ Jude rushed to him.

He held up his hand. ‘Jude. Go. Get ready. I am fine.’ He waved her towards the door, and she hesitated.

‘Jude, honestly.’ He needed to be stronger than this. He was stronger than this. ‘Go.’

She nodded and turned towards the door. He must have imagined the hurt look on her face as she left.

*

The coronation was a success. Yes, the king and queen looked exhausted, but all the courtiers knew why. There were knowing smiles and nods throughout the day. And while Cardan would nod back, each time he did the fissure grew wider. The space between what was believed and what was reality was great these days. It was disconcerting.

Still, Jude looked beautiful. The crown rested perfectly on her head. A new dress hugged the strong curves he had conjured in his mind so frequently, that he had seen in all their glory but once. She seemed to shine from within. Her punishments were so clever, so just, he could see the folk continuing to adjust to her role. One that he knew she deserved, but most of the faerie were still a little hesitant about, even after everything. She glanced at him, smiling shyly. It was a look of longing. The folk would think she wanted him again. _Clever_ , he thought.

They left together, arm in arm, and walked the halls slowly. They arrived at the door of her old rooms, and he stopped. He needed to prove to her that he was fine, even while he felt the weariness creeping through his system again. He was so much better than before, but the day was exhausting.

‘Here you go.’ He said, smiling.

She glanced at him, face unreadable. She seemed to search his eyes, probably for signs of sickness. He made his face blank as well. She would not be made to worry.

‘Yes.’ Jude said. ‘Well...goodnight.’

He hated she would be farther than an arm span from him, but she needed rest. It would not do for both of them to be incapable of doing their newly established roles.

‘Goodnight.’ He said, smiling, and he leaned forward to kiss her. It was soft, sweet, designed as a closing gift for the day rather than opening for the evening.

She shut the door softly behind her.

*

Over the next several weeks, he still slept late and retired far too early, but felt stronger by the day. Jude would come to him in the morning, fully dressed, ready for the day’s work. Sometimes he would sit in bed, sometimes at the table near the desk she worked at. The court continued its celebrations, although they started to be a bit farther in between. Sometimes he would put in a short appearance, sometimes she. Occasionally together. The courtiers were pleased to see them, but the revelry seemed to need no host.

Towards the end of a day full of reviewing scroll after scroll of state business, he looked over towards her. Her hair was a curtain while she wrote some response that was probably a hundred times better than what he would have. He got up and walked towards her. Going to a celebration about the fact that you were no longer a serpent with your wife was…what? _A date?_ ‘Would you like to go to the celebrations tonight?’

Jude glanced up, surprised. Sometimes her beauty struck him so squarely, taking his breath away. She was so otherworldly, to him. He had hated it once but relished it now. _‘Is this a riddle? And if I answer it, will you go back to kissing me?’_ He sucked in a breath at the memory.

‘Sure. That would be fun.’ She smiled. She got up. ‘I’ll meet you there in an hour?’

‘Oh,’ he had thought they would go right away, arm in arm, instead of meeting one another there. She looked beautiful, she could go in a sheet if she wanted and would outshine all at court. The thought of her in a sheet alone threw him off balance. ‘Yes, an hour.’

*

She was wearing the dress he had secretly given her all that time ago. He had chosen it, knowing it would be perfect for her. And it was. She shone brightly, sparkling thought the evening. The eyes of both male and female folk followed her, and he could feel them seeing her through his eyes.

He remembered seeing her in the dress before, the pleasure it had given him to know that he had chosen the fabric, the cut, having memorized her body with his mind’s eye a thousand times. The thin column of her neck, the exact shade of her skin, the sway of her hips. That long-ago evening, the fabric had been his touch upon her body and it had made his heart beat at an uncomfortable gallop.

And now he remembered that when she wore it, she had been on Locke’s arm. How he had overheard someone from the Court of Teeth whispering that night that she had been surprised at the gift, had wondered if Locke had given it to her, or Madoc.

_She is not wearing that dress for me. She still has no idea I gave it to her._

Suddenly, he couldn’t stop himself from remembering how passionately she kissed Locke, while he watched them. Surely, Jude had kissed him more passionately…?

She laughed at something Taryn had said, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the court. Cardan glanced about again. More than a few of the folk seemed to be looking at the queen with desire. And while part of his heart swelled with pride, his gut also clenched a little.

Cardan walked started to walk around the room, aiming to come up behind her, perhaps place a hand on her back, low. He could almost feel the swell of her body against his fingers already.

‘So,’ he overheard Taryn whisper to Jude conspiratorially. ‘How is married life? Hopefully better than my own. The court whispers about you two.’

Jude hesitated. ‘We are a good match.’

‘In every way?’

‘It is…different…than I imagined.’ Jude hedged.

‘Good different?’ Taryn pressed.

Cardan hangs on her words. His heart picked up step. He strained to hear, holding his breath.

‘…Just…different.’

Cardan melted back into the darkness, stung.

*

The next morning, Cardan woke earlier than usual, especially given that he had spent no small amount of time the previous evening staring at his ceiling. His body was stronger, but Jude’s words echoed. And he had started to turn the past few months over in his mind.

He had always assumed her desire was for him. He knew how inexperienced she was. She seemed to enjoy his kisses, his touch. He recalled how he had touched her on that sofa, her head thrown back, flushed and wild. Her above him, hesitant, wanting, riding him into a bliss he had never felt before. It was for him…wasn’t it? _It had to be._

And yet, in a darker, more honest corner of his mind, he also remembered how she had stiffened in his arms that night they consummated their marriage. She had needed to collect herself. Yes, they had continued with a blaze of passion. But he had still felt the withdrawal first.

Now that he thought about it, other faerie had evoked other passions in her as great. His wife seemed to burn fiercely in whatever she did, whatever she felt – anger, rage, ambition, fear, desire. Maybe her reactions would be as strong with someone else…anyone else… _’Just different.’_

He had believed that their path would continue after he healed, easier that it had been before, but now he felt a wavering. He needed to be reassured of her particular taste for him.

The day wore on. Letters, treaties, fae asking for pardons, wishes, boons. Arguments to be settled, tempers to be cooled. Throughout it, Cardan thought of the evening. Of a plan. He would go with her, after dinner, to her rooms. He would walk her there, and perhaps she would invite him in, and then…well, then…He could hope.

Images danced in his mind’s eye at the thought of being alone with her. An image flashed before him. Her kneeling there, naked, before him, telling him he could do with her whatever he wanted. He could feel himself start to harden.

Since he had emerged from his serpent form, he’d felt brushes of desire, but was too unwell for it to return in the intensity he was used to when he thought of her. Now his dark thin pants made the sensation uncomfortable but also heightened it. His anticipation crept up by degrees.

*

Dinner that night was a misstep. Usually, they talked easily, and then his strength would start to deflate, and she would notice. She would come over, lean down, kiss his forehead or brush his hair back, say he had probably had a long day, and why didn’t he go to sleep? It saved him face a bit, and she was always right. He would nod, and drowsily take himself to bed. That night, she was silent. Tense. And he couldn’t think of a thing to say. How would he start?

He was such a fool when it came to Jude. _‘I may be foolish, but I am not a fool.’_ The fates had laughed at him once more. Of course he was a fool. Especially with her.

Perhaps he should try to seduce her? It seemed an odd thing to seduce one’s own wife, but if that was what she wanted, he would be happy to oblige. Or a small innuendo? But she was eating so quickly. She would be done before he figured out his approach…

Finally, he cleared his throat. ‘Jude, I…’

But she was rising. ‘I am tired. I think I will retire early.’ She paused, then nodded, looking away. ‘Goodnight.’

And with that, she was gone. And he was left wondering what exactly had happened.

*

At breakfast days later, she still looked exhausted. Was she sick? She looked like she had those months at the beginning of his reign when he was busy ignoring his responsibilities. Bright eyed, flushed, sleep deprived. What was she hiding from him?

‘Jude. Are you well?’ he asked, hesitantly.

‘What?’ she seemed pulled from a daze. ‘Oh yes, I’m fine.’

He pressed. ‘You go to bed early. You look a bit peaked.’

Her eyebrows arched. ‘Thanks.’

‘I didn’t mean…’

‘No, I know. I am grouchy. I’m not sleeping well. If you are ok with it, I am going to beg off the council meeting today. I think I would like to visit with Vivi.’

‘Of course. You should rest. You’ve helped cover for me so much these last weeks, I know I owe you a debt.’

‘There is no debt.’ Jude said firmly. ‘Not anymore. We are in this together. Do not think otherwise.’

 _At least in the running of a kingdom,_ he thought, _we are united._

Then she sighed, shaking her head a bit. ‘I’ll see you later.’ She gave him a last glance as she left, and he couldn’t read it. Hope? Resignation? Promise? She seemed to be slipping farther from him by the moment.

*

Late that afternoon, the council meetings ended early. Mostly because he made everyone rush through everything and then somewhat unceremoniously dismissed them all.

He wanted to check on her. A visit with her sister, a day off, perhaps sleep…maybe she would be revived, would want to talk, to just sit with him, forget about business of state, and just…be.

He heard voices outside her room.

Vivi: ‘…is it any better?’

A silence, and then Jude responded. ‘It lacks a bit.’

‘Really? That is surprising.’

‘I’m sure.’

‘Well…’ Vivi hesitated, and her voice dropped further. ‘There are other ways…’

Cardan pulled back, shocked. He felt panicked, like the walls were caving in. He knew what this was. They discussed him, his ability to satisfy her. He hadn’t realized this was where they were. Vivi was suggesting _a lover for his wife._

He waited with bated breath. _Please_ , he thought, _reject it outright._ _Please._ He heard Jude chuckle. ‘Yes, yes…I may give it a try.’

He could not get back to his rooms fast enough. When he reached them, he slammed the door behind him. He picked up one of the beautiful trinkets on the table, probably some priceless diplomatic gift that he later would regret smashing, and flung it across the wall. It shattered into pieces. He squeezed his eyes shut, his fists balled up. He looked around wildly, trying to undo what was happening.

Then he pulled up short.

He would go to her. That night, he would go to her. He would stop this madness, before it began.

*

Late that evening, he stood in front of her door. He had taken forever to prepare. He wanted to be perfect for her. He bathed with special oils, gold dust across his cheeks, eyes lined with liquid ebony, fabrics soft to the touch, the scent of the secrets of the dark forest upon his skin. He had never really seduced anyone before. Always, always…they came to him. Even in easing information from Nicasia, the effort had been negligible. And before with he and Jude, it always seemed like this powerful, undeniable magnet, them seducing each other with a magic far greater than any other he had known. At least, that is what it felt like then. Now…well, now…He felt a little embarrassed as he knocked at her door.

He waited. She would open the door, barefoot, hair down, a long nightgown…He would politely ask to come in, to talk. Maybe the magnet would be there…

And yet he heard nothing.

He knocked again. He felt fluttering in his belly. The anticipation was too much. He had woken her, and she was taking her time. Perhaps she wore nothing to bed and was searching for a dressing gown. His mouth went dry.

And there remained a stillness but for the thud of his heart.

He reached for the doorknob and gently turned it. He pushed the door open, hearing a heavy creak.

Darkness.

She wasn’t there.

He was too late.

*

He slept late the next day. He had been up for hours, his body giving out just before dawn.

So many things tumbling through his head.

 _‘I did it for the same reason you did. To get it out of my system.’_ What if that was it? What if he was out of her system? He was alone in his want for her. He was consumed by the thought of the curve of her breasts, the smooth cheek, the strength in her thighs, her hair, her smell… And she was…what? Passionate in general but not particularly for him?

She had said she loved him. _She could have lied._ Or maybe she did love him, but it was not accompanied but this all-consuming fire that his body was reawakening to, that his heart had known for months.

When he finally did rouse himself and bring himself to go to the council chambers, he opened the door mid-session. This, on top of what was already proving to be a very trying day.

The council members and Jude turned towards with the heavy oak doors opening.

There she was. Mildly surprised but with intelligence and loveliness painted across her face. His heart clenched. She smiled at his entrance. She was pleased to see him. Just…not pleased enough to want him. And with that, with that ache that started to burrow its way into his heart, he realized he would probably take whatever of her she would offer. That crumbs from this banquet were torture…but they were better than starving.

*

A week passed. Long days and nights as Cardan adjusted to his new role. King, partner…but not lover. He told himself he could endure it. He had endured so much worse. And yet, by the end of the week he called loyal members of the Court of Shadows to his side.

‘I want to know if there are any rumors about the queen.’ He felt his shame in the ask. He could barely look them in the eyes. He felt the two of them glance at each other. He could see their silent message to one another.

 _This kind of trouble never did Elfhame any good_.

They nodded.

*

She looked exhausted. She had seemed rung out all week. This afternoon, when the servants left, they were alone.

‘Jude,’ he said softly. She looked up, a bit slowly. ‘Are you sure you are alright?’

She gave him a sad, small smile. ‘Yes, I am alright.’

He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t ask.

*

‘Well?’

The two spies dreaded the news. ‘Your majesty…there are rumors but they are yet unconfirmed. It is unwise to pay them heed,’ the braver of the two said haltingly.

‘Just tell me.’

‘So,’ he starts slowly, and Cardan nods. ‘She does wander at night in her nightclothes. Usually several hours after most are asleep.’

It was true. The evening when he had gone to her door was not an anomaly. The fear that had grown inside his gut solidified. He couldn’t breathe. He felt dizzy. His hand grasped the desk nearby, steadying himself. Was that his heart, beating that loud? He swallowed, and then saw their faces.

‘What else?’ he whispered.

The two glanced at one another again.

‘Please.’ Cardan couldn’t turn away from it. It was an infection that he could only cut out if he knew how deep it went.

‘Your majesty, some of the servants were talking about the queen. I overheard one say, “I’d never experienced anything like it. The things she does…”’ He swallowed. ‘But I do not know of what they speak. It could be anyone, anything. _Anything_ , not necessarily…’ He finished in a rush and then tapered off.

Cardan could feel and old habit surfacing. One to be cruel, to lash out at these two idiots in front of him who were only doing their job. He could rip them to shreds with his words….or with more than his words. The thought appealed to him. Too much.

And yet… he could not. He couldn’t be who he had been. He would not. The rage rising in him crested into pain. To heartache.

‘Thank you.’ He whispered, nodding towards the door, dismissing them.

By the time they reached the door, the silent, clenched tears of desperate want and loss had begun to fall.

*

Maybe it was revenge his wife sought. He had previously pushed thoughts of Jude with Locke out of his mind, and for one reason in particular. He had heard her threaten revenge on betrayal when she danced that night with Locke, foreshadowing the evening, everything to come. He knew with her rage came a reckoning. And maybe this was it for him.

All the things that he had done to her. For all those years. He had grown, could admit the dark path he had been on had done no one any good. But simply because he had evolved from being spoilt and cruel did not mean that she was ready to forgive him.

And she was so capable of playing the long game…

All of the kisses, the responses, the looks…maybe they were all calculated little cuts. _‘I have asked you to lie to me before, in this very room. But I beg you not to lie to me now.’_ Just because he had asked did not mean he would receive it. It simply meant he wanted it to be so.

*

Later that week, she came into his rooms, knocking but not waiting before entering.

‘Cardan’ she said, a note by her side. ‘I need your help.’

News had come from the mortal world of Madoc. Trouble he was trying to stir with the faerie who were on that side. Early attempts at rallying a force.

‘We need to stop it.’

And with that, he pushed everything between them aside. They planned together for days. Early mornings, late nights, scheming to drive out a threat to the land and sea. He was reinvigorated, she was at her calculating best. They worked so well together.

One morning, when she came again to continue strategizing, he opened the door to her before she knocked, and he stepped aside. As she brushed past him, he caught the wake of her scent. He knew that scent. Immediately, he was hard. His skin prickled with it, his palms damp. Her lust was so strong he struggled not to groan as it washed over him. He grasped the doorlatch hard as she went to sit down. He kept standing there. He couldn’t move, not just because he would most likely betray himself but more because he wasn’t sure he could trust himself.

‘Cardan’ Jude called. ‘Come on. We have a lot of work.’ She was impatient.

He gritted his teeth. He took slow, deep breaths. He tried to shake off the impact.

It was not revenge. That suddenly felt crystal clear. She simply hadn’t put that much thought into it.

And somehow, that hurt even more.

‘Sorry. I’m coming.’ He closed the door and walked to the table.

*

Her breath coming fast and hard. Her waist beneath his hand. Her scent all around him. His lips on hers, slow, wanting, passionate, demanding. His skin on hers, so warm. He has missed this. She wanted him, only him…

Cardan bolted awake. His breath came in gulps. He could almost feel Jude against him. And yet…she was fading back into the dream.

His cock was hard, leaking, pulsing. A fine sweat coated his pale skin. It was agony. He had no idea what to do about it though. Perhaps this was just how it would be from now on. What if this was all he had of her? Could he still bare it? He conjured an existence of not having her at all, no conversation during meals, no plotting for the realm, no occasional glances traded on the absurdity of whatever council problem was before them. And again, he knew. He would continue to endure it if was all he was allowed.

Still, maybe he should try again. Just because she had a lover did not mean she wouldn’t also entertain him. It wasn’t optimal, but he would rather share her and have a little more of her than the current offering.

He put on his robe, and quietly left his rooms. He held a candle in front of him, illuminating just a few feet of long hallway in front of him.

‘I know that look,’ a voice said, close by.

And he stopped short.

‘Nicasia.’ He acknowledged her.

She came a bit closer, into the candlelight. She was wearing the most beautifully transparent dressing gown, and he could see her lovely body underneath. He knew that body. He has explored that body many times before. And he would not be able to utter the words denying he had thought of it more recently. It would be a relief. If he could not have Jude, perhaps he could at least have this.

‘Look at you,’ she whispered, her voice a familiar caress. ‘All that lust and nowhere to go with it.’

She moved closer still. ‘I know exactly what to do with it. Remember?’

He swallowed, then nodded. She reached out, cupping him assuredly. His cock leapt at the touch.

‘Oh my.’ She smiled. ‘You are more ready than I expected. Does the queen not satisfy you, despite the rumors of her wildness? Despite that sated, exhausted look she wears?’ She raised her eyebrows with the question. ‘Of course she does not…’

He closed his eyes, unable to lie, trying to shut it out.

Nicasia closed the distance entirely, her body pressing against his. She reached up to whisper, lips touching his ear, ‘Let us indulge the way we once did. Let me help you.’

He was trembling. She rubbed against him and he wanted it, so badly. Unbidden, he played the scene forward in his head. He could almost feel her around him, squeezing him tightly, expertly, wet and warm.

Then came the image of her face being the one he looked down to in that moment of ecstasy, and he pulled away.

‘No.’ His voice was firm. He betrayed none of the wavering he still admittedly felt. The doors to the evening started to close. He pulled back farther away.

‘No,’ he repeated. ‘You are lovely. You know it. But this must be done for us.’

He turned and walked quickly back to his rooms. He closed the door tightly, breathing hard. It was Jude or nothing, he knew.

 _‘It was a test of my vulnerability, and I failed it,’_ he told Jude once, on a very different matter. He had not failed this time, but both times, he chose Jude. Every time he would choose Jude.

He must do something else with the energy. He decided to recommit to his training, to his sleight of hand. He suspected he would be very good at them soon enough.

*

Two weeks later, his world truly caved in on itself.

He was at breakfast before her and in a terrible mood. He barked at the servants to bring him his meal, not waiting for his wife.

And then he felt guilty at the bustle he created because of it.

He was about to apologize when he heard it. A servant rushed through the swinging door, and behind it, he heard a male voice from the kitchens, ‘…the queen taught me how.’

His breathing stopped. The world slowed.

Another servant. ‘Really? Can you teach me?’

The first, so coy. ‘We’ll see. I’m not sure you deserve something so delicious.’

The air was heavy and he felt like he was pushing through the Undersea.

‘Did she have her fill?’

‘I imagine so.’

Their voices weren’t low; there was no shame. His blood turned to ice.

Cardan looked up, through the swinging door, back and forth, back and forth, and he saw who spoke. He had known it was a servant. And now he could see the servant was… _mortal_.

Part of him died. The nearby flowers that began to bloom throughout the castle when they made their vows started to wilt.

_‘Did she have her fill?’ ‘I imagine so.’_

He stood up so quickly that dishes crashed to the floor just as Jude came through the door across the room. She saw the crash and looked at him in surprise. ‘Cardan, what…?’ Her voice faded when she saw his face. She stood aside for him to leave; he was clearly on a mission.

As he passed her by, he could smell it again. Her. It was only her, her lust, her satisfaction. A combination of leather and honey and secrets and faerie fruit designed only for him. The rush of emotions was breathtaking. The scars on his back were nothing compared to these fresh wounds. Cardan stopped, looking into her eyes, searching, searching, searching….

 _‘He sent me to kill you.’_ This was the longest shot his brother had ever taken, the deepest cut, the sharpest sting. And yet, Cardan was certain that from beyond the grave, Balekin had long ago made the killing blow.

‘What is it? Are you alright?’ she sounded so worried, so concerned for him. And worse, she seemed to mean it. She reached for him.

He would not survive a kind touch in this moment. Despite all of it, he was ready to do exactly as he had promised her that night. _‘It is I who would beg and grovel for a kind word from your lips.’_ He rushed past her before he began to beg.

*

When had he had turned her away? Had it been all at once? Or a thousand small things?

He could have sworn she had wanted him in the moment of that night. He had waited for her, lowering his head to hers slowly for the kiss. She did not stop him. He had felt it, he was sure, and he was not alone in it.

And the way that she offered herself to him. She was so beautiful, so fierce that his heart had stuttered. He had wanted what she offered so badly, and yet insisted on whatever she had wanted instead. But really…she had told him what she wanted, and he had insisted on something different, hadn’t he? It was on her behalf, yes, but it was not what she had asked for.

Perhaps this mortal had bowed to her request. A request like that from the queen of Elfhame could not be denied, especially not one so pleasurable. _‘You may do with me whatever you like.’_

What had that human wanted from his wife? _How_ had he wanted her? That mortal, with his strong, thick arms, bigger than any fae. Sunkissed skin and smelling of hard work the way Cardan never would.

With them, there was probably a bed rather than a cold floor, a simplicity that could never, would never exist between her and Cardan. Could he blame his wife for wanting something less difficult than him? Than all the effort of overcoming old wounds and differences and deceptions and false starts?

There had to be an answer. What could he have done for them to be anywhere but here?

*

He did not go to council meetings that day.

Or the next.

*

He knew what he had to do.

His brothers, Locke, Valarian, all of them, would have been ashamed of him if they knew.

But he was beyond their reach now. She was all that mattered.

He would offer himself to her. He would say it plainly. It was the last piece of his armor and he would remove it and lay it at her feet.

He decided when to do it. He knew where.

Tonight, in the kitchens, when she wandered there to meet _him_. And if she didn’t come tonight, he would return tomorrow. And the next night. Until it was said.

*

Cardan was waiting in the darkness at the table when she came into the warm room.

She fussed with something, unaware of his presence in the room, and he took in her loveliness while he gathered up his courage.

Finally, he was ready.

‘Wife,’ he acknowledged her.

And then he struck a match.


End file.
